Original Review: Vertigo in Sight and Sound, Spring 1959

Below I reprint the review of Vertigo published in the influential British journal Sight and Sound upon its original release in 1958, but first a brief introduction.

Hitchcock in the 1950s

I am very interested in how the reception of films change over time, and how their initial reception relates to their standing today. One of the single most interesting cases is Vertigo (1958), a film that has become embedded in the consciousness of serious filmgoers.

By the time the film was released in 1958 (1959 in Britain) Hitchcock was the most high-profile Hollywood director of them all. No doubt this was galvanised by his appearance on television as host of Alfred Hitchcock Presents (1955-61) in which Hitchcock was cleverly cementing a clearly-defined screen persona – the slow drawl, the black suit, the sense of humour, the portly figure, and the famous profile. It was Hitchcock himself who had transformed his profile into a neat logo, which then went on to open every episode of his TV show. Hitchcock had become an unlikely but powerful brand.

The 1950s saw key changes in how films were written about. Influenced by the politique des auteurs promoted by the French critics of Cahiers du Cinéma, British film critics of Sight and Sound focused more on the role of the director and the director’s responsibility for the film as a whole, then they ever had before. The combination of this shift in film criticism and the strong Hitchcock brand meant that Hitchcock’s role as an auteur was indisputable. In the review below Houston talks of a ‘typical Hitchcock joke’, for instance. Indeed Hitchcock is seen as perhaps the ultimate auteur: the precise visual style of his films suggest to the viewer that he knew what he wanted and achieved it. The controlled movement and pacing of his visuals suggest control behind the camera.

So when Vertigo was released it was clearly seen as another ‘Hitchcock film’. At first glance his films of the 1950s were clearly Hollywood products, as was the case with the glossy star vehicle The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956) with James Stewart and Doris Day, or To Catch a Thief (1955)with Cary Grant and Grace Kelly. He made a couple of grittier movies in the 1950s, notably I Confess (1953) and The Wrong Man (1956), which had the feel of film noir and neo-realism, but Vertigo was clearly aligned with his bigger releases: vivid colour, Vistavision, and a star name in James Stewart. But again Hitchcock seems to smuggle dark themes into these studio movies, with Vertigo being a particularly bleak emotional journey concerned with loss and obsession.

Today the film is revered by critics and film lovers, and during the last Sight & Sound Top Ten Poll in 2002 the film almost beat Citizen Kane to the number one spot – it was only 6 votes away. The fact that Vertigo, along with Rope (1948), Rear Window (1954), The Trouble with Harry (1955), and The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956) were quickly removed from circulation only to be seen again in the 1980s may have contributed to their appeal when re-evaluated (pirate black and white copies circulated for those desperate to see them during that dark age).

Below is the full review that was published in the Spring 1959 issue of Sight and Sound, written by Penelope Houston, which offers an interesting perspective on how the film was received on initial release. She believes that the film suffers from a plot of ‘egg-shell thinness’ and that one of its key problems is that of pacing: ‘this time he is repeating himself in slow motion’. She does not seem to have sensed the repressed passion that drives as an undercurrent throughout the film. This may be due to the fact that Vertigo is ultimately defined by its repeated viewing. The first viewing is only an introduction, but it is in the re-watching that the film starts to take hold and become an obsession.

Please let me know your thoughts on the review and leave a comment.

Penelope Houston, ‘Vertigo’, Sight and Sound, Spring 1959, p.319.

VERTIGO (Paramount) finds Hitchcock toying weightily with a thriller by Pierre Boileau and Thomas Narcejac, authors of Les Diaboliques. As with their earlier novel, the mystery is a question not of who done it but of whether it was really done at all–in this case, how can a girl who has fallen spectacularly to her death from a church tower reappear a few months later in the streets of San Francisco, and is she in fact the same girl? This question of identity, central to the novel, is disposed of by Hitchcock in a brisk and curiously timed flashback, leaving only the secondary problem of how the hero, a detective who first trails the girl, then becomes obsessed by his memories of her, will react to discovering the truth. But in a story of this kind, a sleigh-of-hand affair built on deception and misdirection, mystification counts for everything; to introduce questions of motivation, to suggest that the people involved in this murder game are real, is to risk cracking a plot structure of egg-shell thinness. Only speed, finally, could sustain the illusion that the plot hangs together–and Hitchcock has never made a thriller more stately and deliberate in technique.

If the plot fails to work, there are still some good suspense diversion. These include a macabre, misogynistic sequence in which the obsessed detective (James Stewart) enlists dressmakers and hairdressers to make over the lightly disguised Kim Novak number two in the image of the lost Kim Novak number one; a typical Hitchcock joke, in which the detective tracks the girl down an alley, through a dark and dingy passage-way, and finds that this sinister approach is the back door to an expensive flower shop; and a single shot of stunning virtuosity, with a corpse spread-eagled across a church roof at one side of the screen, and the detective slinking out of the church door at the screen’s opposite edge. A roof-top chase, decisively opening the picture, a struggle in the church belfry, some backchat in the manner of Rear Window with a cool, astringent second-string heroine (Barbara Bel Geddes) are all reminiscent of things Hitchcock has done before, and generally done with more verve. One is agreeably used to Hitchcock repeating his effects, but this time he is repeating himself in slow motion.–PENELOPE HOUSTON

7 comments

I saw VERTIGO for the first time when it was released in the US in 1958, when I was 21. It had an immediate impact on me and lingered almost dreamlike in my memory for years before it was finally re-released years later in VHS and then DVD formats. The gauzy color cinematography, San Francisco location and Bernard Hermann’s hauntingly appropriate soundtrack together with the performances by Stewart and Novak combined to do what no other film has before or since, find a place in my recollections usually reserved for only the deepest feelings about the experiences of life itself. Maybe something like an image of an unforgettable sunset, beautiful woman or haunting melody that one knows will always be there in reverie until the end. There can be no more than one or two films in one’s lifetime capable of such an effect. I have not seen another to this time.

The contemporary review (1959)was fair and there may be some legitimate questions about the integrity of the plot. However, looked upon as a work of art there is only one word that fits. Masterpiece. I have viewed it a numer of times in recent years and only come to be more convinced that my first impression was justified.

I don’t agree at all that Vertigo is a masterpiece. I saw it yesterday for the first time at the National Film Theatre, and had high hopes as it had been declared the best film ever. I agree, on the whole, with Penelope Houston’s review and with Peter Matthews (Sight and Sound September 2012) before he had his “epiphany”. With a truly great film – for example many of those directed by Fellini, Bergman or Tarkovsky – plot is not important but in a film that relies on suspense, such as this one, it matters a lot. We are asked to believe that Gavin Elster, who we have only seen for a few minutes and don’t care about, ushered his mad wife, who we have never seen at all and care about even less, up the stairs of a tower, wearing the same grey suit as her double, and threw her off the tower at the exact moment Scottie (James Stewart) and Madeleine/ Judy ( Kim Novak) came charging up the stairs. All this in the days before mobile phones.
At that point, speaking as a novelist, the film lost my sympathy. I was already bored with the interminable shots of James Stewart in a movie car driving around San Francisco travelogues. He is probably the most charming actor ever, with irresistible blue eyes and an air of sincerity that would disarm Attila the Hun, and his performance makes the film memorable. Kim Novak is so bland and dumb that I found it impossible to be interested in her survival as she seemed half-dead already. I kept hoping James Stewart would turn to the bright and lively Midge (Barbara Bel Geddes). The soundtrack has been described as Wagnerian, but although I admire the music of Bernard Herrmann I can’t hear any trace of Wagner in it. The camera work, which is so often what makes Hitchcock’s films powerful, is unremarkable and repetitive.

Thank you very much for your comment Jack, appreciated. I am really interested in your having seen Vertigo on release – you have a pretty unique perspective. I have a few questions, if you don’t mind.

1) What was the quality of the image like? Of course the restoration on Vertigo means that prints of the film look pretty spectacular nowadays. Does the restoration look the way you remember seeing it – in the tone, in the colours – or are there any differences? How impressive was it to watch VistaVision?

2) You talk about how the film lingered dreamlike after you saw it. Of course the nature of film exhibition in those days meant you could only really see a film once. (Is this correct? Or would films ever return or play for a considerable amount of time?) In my experience Vertigo is really suitable to multiple viewings and I think it is through repeated VHS and DVD viewings that modern-day Vertigo fans are born. It seems as though you did not require those supplementary viewings; did it get under your skin immediately, or is it a film that you couldn’t get out of your mind as time passed?

3) How did this film fit into your perception of James Stewart at the time, in relation to the other films of his that you had seen and your understanding of him as a personality? Also, how big of a star was Kim Novak at the time you saw Vertigo, and did she have a clear impact when you saw the film?

I will try answering your questions as best as possible considering the time that has passed since 1958. I am now 71 and considered an old man by most (but not by myself of course).

I first saw it at a local neighborhood theatre which means that it was probably at least a few weeks since the Boston opening “downtown” as we used to call it. The image quality was pretty good. I recall the gauzy almost ghostly effect that I believe Hitchcock intentionally sought. Vista Vision was a Hollywood gimmick to get people away from their TVs and back into the theatres. It was good but not spectacular, in my opinion anyway.

In those days you only got one or two shots at a film. First, the opening run “downtown” and then the suburbs shortly afterwards. After 6 months or so there might be a second run in the ‘burbs at a reduced admission price if you were lucky. The film did get under my skin as you put it during the first viewing. Very few films have had that effect on me. In spite of not having the advantage of multiple viewings back then it did linger on the “back burner” as they say in my memory for decades thereafter.

I always had a favorable image of Stewart who had been around as long as I could remember back then. Like a star athlete he was a pro who got the job done, especially if he was under the direction of a master like Hitchcock. Prior to this film my best recollection of him was probably his role as Glenn Miller in THE GLENN MILLER STORY a few years earlier. I was then and still am a fan of “the big bands” of the 1930s-40s.
Kim Novak was already a star by that time. PICNIC had put here over the top a few years earlier. PICNIC was a film I also enjoyed at the time so I had a favorable opinion of Kim probably due a good deal to that. Here role in PAL JOEY with Frank Sinatra and Rita Hayworth also starring, was very good. I was also always a big Sinatra fan, especially back in the late 50s early 60s and even remain so today.

Well, I hope the above was helpful. I’ve booked your site for future reference and will keep an eye on it.

I love The Glenn Miller Story; how about that scene where Stewart heads to an underground jazz club only to find Louis Armstrong on the stage? I also like the fact that in the early scenes he is playing a character far younger than he Stewart actually was, but there is a pleasure to be had in still believing it.

Pal Joey is also one of my favourites (quite underrated I think). Sinatra is really superb in that film and the scenes of him singing on stage, as well as his confident New York swagger, come straight out that archetypal Sinatra persona that we come to expect of him. Since you’re a fan please look out for a post that will be going up tomorrow about one of Sinatra’s great films.

Thank you for your comments, they were very helpful. I would be interested in other titles or experiences that stood out for you during that time. Picnic is sitting on my shelf; I will have to finally get round to watching it now.

Louis Armstrong remains a legendary innovative jazz giant rivaled only, in my opinion, by Bix Beiderbecke. I will have to re-check that scene out the next time I get to watch the movie. The Sinatra of the late 1950s was a kind of role model for young people who wanted to be hip and liked jazz and swing better than rock n’ roll, more suited to the mostly tone deaf majority who responded better to a primitive beat than the more complicated patterns of decent music. Not that there was anything wrong with that. Don’t want to be a snob about good taste. I don’t think Frank would like that either.

I’ll try getting to your request at a later date after giving a little thought to the subject era’s offerings.

Good to know that some young people of today are trying to make sense out of what was a critical period for films and entertainment.

Hey. I no that the last comment was posted in 2008, but i hope your are still able to reply.
I am an A-level student studding Film Studies. An asspect of my exam in a close study film in which i have chossen Vertigo. I have discoverd that on its origional release it blunderd at the box office and was faced with negitive reviews. Yet to be able to find these reviews are being some what difficult. In reading the article that you have posted in seems that an aspect of why if was faced with bad reviews was the audiance becoming some what bored of Hitchcocks film style, and sore Vertigo is repeating its effect. Yet how come today it is known as one of the greats.
Viewing for the first time i enjoyed it i was able to see it from a critical approuch and there for i feel i have more resept for it. Where as my boyfriend did not have the same oppinion. He was very bored by it and did not see it as a thriller. As is he use to the mainstreem Hollywood thriller Hitchcocks Vertigo did not meet his expectations. So through the critical reviews it shoot up into becoming one of the greates becuase the criticis look beyond the motion pictures.
Can i ask for your oppinion on why you feel it did so poorley on its origional release and why it didnt capture the attention of its audiance.
Thank you very much
Wendy